Melina gazed at Lucian with worry. Ever since he had slain those star-born creatures—Astel, he had seemed… different. And just now, he had suddenly burst into laughter.
She had never seen him express emotion so intensely.
"Lucian," she asked softly, "what exactly happened just now? It wasn't something as simple as invoking a god, was it…?"
Lucian pulled himself out of his thoughts. He gathered his words, then explained to Melina:
"It seems that because of the gravity sorceries I used… I caught the attention of Outer Gods. In the starry sky, I saw two ancient, powerful deities."
At the mention of Outer Gods, Melina's body tensed.
"Outer Gods? How could this be…" That was no trivial matter. Outer Gods were forces beyond comprehension, outside all logic. And he had not merely sensed one, but two of them.
"What did the Outer Gods… do to you? Did They… harm you?"
Lucian shook his head. "No, it's fine. Don't worry. They didn't do anything to me. In fact, They gave me great aid. For instance… I can see you now. I suppose I have Them to thank for that."
Melina froze. Only now did she realize: Lucian had been looking straight at her this entire time, speaking as if he truly saw her.
She circled around him, raising her left hand to wave it in front of his eyes, testing him. His gaze followed her movements closely.
The gesture made Lucian chuckle under his breath. Melina, realizing how childish it seemed, looked slightly embarrassed—but she was glad. If Lucian could truly see her now, she was happy.
And yet unease lingered deep in her heart.
Would Outer Gods ever grant power without demanding something in return? Melina knew Lucian too well. Even if there was a price, he would never tell her. He would hide it to keep her from worrying.
But this was no trivial matter—it concerned the Outer Gods. She could not leave it be.
So she pressed gently: "Then… what was the cost?"
Lucian thought it over. This time, there didn't seem to be any cost worth calling a price.
"Nothing much. Do you recall the headless Mausoleum Knights we once encountered?"
Melina nodded.
"They follow the soulless demigod, Godwyn the Golden. They sought to summon his soul back using the Eclipse Sun—yet to do so, they must blot out the true Sun entirely."
"And so, it was the true Sun that came to me."
"What I must do is end the ritual sustaining the Eclipse Sun, and press down Godwyn's coffin for good. That way, the true Sun's radiance will once again shine upon the Lands Between."
Melina didn't fully grasp the causal chain he described, but destroying a ritual—at least that much she understood. For Lucian, that would not be difficult. If he could find the ritual's location, it was already as good as done.
"And the other one?" she asked. "You said two Outer Gods sought you out, did you not?"
Lucian considered. The other encounter had been even simpler—no words, no demands, only a gift thrust upon him.
"The other… was a god of gravity. It seemed to admire the strength of my gravitational sorceries, and granted me power. But we couldn't communicate at all. It simply forced its strength into me."
Melina was left speechless. The Outer Gods he encountered… why did They all seem so easy to deal with?
Lucian, for his part, thought differently. The Sun was without question a benevolent god—No. That wasn't right. For gods, notions of good and evil had no meaning.
It wasn't about good or evil. Rather, the Sun's principle simply aligned with what Lucian defined as good.
Other gods could not be called evil either. Even the Scarlet Rot or the Formless Mother—they only pursued their own alien ideals. Just as wicked men still needed a savior suited to the wicked.
But the Sun's logic, its way of being, was closest to Lucian's values.
It asked nothing from the world it illuminated. It simply shed its light, giving freely. It was pure charity.
And because it bore no ties of gain or loss, if a world could not receive its light, the Sun would not intervene.
Like the world Lucian had glimpsed before—one cursed by bloodline, overrun by hostile gods, cut off from sunlight. The Sun had not intervened.
Only a world like the Lands Between, where there remained those who could still resonate with it, still reach for it—the Sun would try to save.
And so, it had bestowed upon Lucian a vast power. Moreover, he might one day channel the Sun's strength into Radahn's burned and empty Great Rune, inscribing it with solar law.
Lucian focused inward, feeling the power coursing through him. At his thought, the embers across his body flared brighter.
Melina eyed the burn scars on him curiously. "Is this the Sun's brand upon you? Does it hurt?"
Lucian shook his head. "Only a little, when I first received it."
Clearly, this embered state was not mere ornament. It was the Sun's blessing, its grace.
He could feel it directly—the enhancements to his body. His vitality had risen somewhat, though not to absurd levels.
But the most significant, overwhelming change was his resistance to flame.
The Sun's fire had seared him, and in its wake, Lucian now possessed immense resistance. Roughly sixty to seventy percent, by his estimate.
Most fire in the Lands Between would scarcely do more than tickle him now. With fire-resistant armor, he might approach near-total immunity.
And that was only one effect. There were others still. His stamina and focus recovered faster as well.
But some effects he couldn't sense alone. He would test them tomorrow. Perhaps sunlight at day's peak would grant even more.
Lucian sheathed the Starscourge Greatswords and turned toward Redmane Castle. As he left, his thoughts flickered back to the distant dune where he had glimpsed that figure with fiery red hair.
'That was Ranni… wasn't it? Her soul's form still looks as it once did. And… it is beautiful.'
Lucian had never minded Ranni's doll body—but clearly, he found her original form far lovelier.
The warriors had long since retreated to a safe distance.
Now, as the dust settled from that world-shaking strike, they regained their senses.
Some among them had once seen the storm that pierced the heavens over Stormveil from afar. But seeing such power up close—this was utterly different.
That blow had been too immense, too overwhelming. It filled them with fear.
Could anyone in the Lands Between truly wield such strength?
Even General Radahn, mightiest master of gravity sorcery, could not have unleashed such a strike in his prime.
And until now, Lucian had shown no mastery over gravity beyond the Ruins Greatsword.
The soldiers whispered, trying to fathom it—but there was no explanation within reason.
When Lucian reappeared before them, they hurried to meet him.
They saw the scorch marks upon his body, seared bright and dark, and were struck silent.
So there was a price. To burn himself for such power?
Those who had fought in the War against the Giants remembered the Fire Giants' faith in the Fell God. They too burned themselves, sacrificed, to draw upon that god's flame.
Could this be the same?
But no, it was not quite like that. Something was different.
Lucian, seeing their stares, guessed their thoughts. They must have mistaken his embered state for a side effect.
All the better. Let them think that.
He could hardly explain what truly happened. And the devastation of his earlier strike was impossible to hide. It was better they believed it came with a cost.
Let them imagine their own explanations, enough to convince themselves.
Jerren stepped forward. Looking upon Lucian, returned safe, he struggled to voice his gratitude.
Lucian had not only granted Radahn his release in a glorious final battle, but had preserved his corpse from defilement by those monsters, and saved countless Redmanes besides.
"Lord Lucian…" Jerren bowed deeply. "This Festival of Combat would have ended in catastrophe without you. If you have no pressing business, please—remain in Redmane Castle for two more days. We shall hold a grand feast in your honor."
Though the embered state was striking, it did little to hinder his daily life. Well—except when the heat burned straight through his bedding, leaving holes in the boards.
After that, Lucian decided he really needed a bed made of glintstone crystal.
Still, after one good night's sleep, he awoke feeling renewed.
Through a site of grace, he transported himself to the throne plaza of Stormveil. The wide square gave him room to test freely—and more importantly, no prying eyes.
Redmane Castle was too crowded. If he tested there, a horde would gather to watch.
Standing on the plaza, Lucian began to test the Sun's gifts, taking advantage of the daylight.
The sun could still be seen above the Lands Between—distant, but present. Its effects carried through.
As he expected, the embered state grew stronger in daylight. His stamina and focus recovered more swiftly—nothing excessive, but enough to make a great difference in battle endurance.
And with the embers burning brighter, his flames grew deadlier.
He conjured black flame in his palm. With the same expenditure of focus, it burned larger, fiercer than ever before.
He had yet to study other flame incantations, so their growth remained unknown. But clearly, fire itself was empowered.
Once his journey through Nokron, the Eternal City, was complete, he would need to dedicate time to study.
Perhaps he should test his fire resistance as well.
Black flame had once borne the power of Destined Death—the god-slaying flame. But ever since Maliketh, the Black Blade, sealed Destined Death, black flame had lost that aspect, retaining only its ability to sear life.
Lucian removed his battered armor, lest it be destroyed outright, and hurled a ball of black flame onto himself.
The result shocked him. Aside from searing heat and a faint wound, it hardly harmed him at all.
So his earlier estimate of sixty to seventy percent resistance had been far too conservative. Judging by this, it was nearer to ninety.
Even without the daylight's boost, he still held roughly eighty.
He tried ice sorceries and skills as well. Their strength remained intact, though ice near him quickly melted. A minor side effect.
All this was constant. By day, the effects grew stronger, peaking at noon.
Summarizing the Sun's blessings:
Increased vitality
Faster recovery of stamina and focus
Immense fire resistance
Empowered flames
Apart from the extreme fire resistance, the boosts were not beyond what certain incantations could grant.
But as passive blessings, freely given, this balance was exceptional.
There were drawbacks. Any armor he wore would gradually burn and weaken. His defenses would suffer.
Yet beyond those passives, he had gained two formidable new powers.
First: the power to burn himself, using his own life as fuel to heighten his attributes.
At a minimal burn, his natural recovery could sustain it almost indefinitely—a half-passive buff for combat. With Crimson Tears and other healing, he could stoke the flames higher, last longer.
The fiercer he burned, the greater the gain. But burn too hot, and he would quickly consume himself.
At full release, the power was immense—but within seconds, it would kill him.
Yet for Lucian, this was no problem at all. After all, he possessed Wind Spirit Moon Shadow. With infinite health, he could burn at maximum, a permanent, overwhelming buff.
Where once he had to choose between Invincibility, Infinite Health, or Super Damage, now he could simply take both.
Five minutes of power beyond reckoning, with Infinite Health besides—who in the Lands Between could stand against him?
And the second gift…
A gentle glow formed in his palm, warm sunlight. It radiated soothing light, healing wounds.
Like the Blessing of the Erdtree incantations, but not bound by their ranks or forms. Its strength depended only on how much focus he poured into it.
In time, he could shape it further—group healing, buffs to attack or defense.
Sunlight could warm and heal, but with a shift of his will, that glow blazed into searing orange fire, warping the very air.
This was no prophecy's flame, nor the Fell God's, nor black flame, nor holy golden flame, nor bloodflame.
This was the Sun itself.
Unlike ordinary fire, it did not flicker, but held firm, shaped as he desired.
He condensed it into a spear of pure sunlight. Not the same as the 'Sunlight Spear' of old legends—but who could deny the name?
With no foe before him, he let the spear fade away.
He mused. Its destructive power was strong—but perhaps not extraordinary. He would test it against Scarlet Rot soon enough. As the power of a god, it should surpass common flame.
All told, the Sun's gift was mighty indeed. Lucian was deeply satisfied.
He next turned to the power thrust upon him by the white dwarf star. The Wave of Destruction unleashed by the Ruins Greatsword struck harder now. Likely a boon to gravity sorceries—or perhaps an affinity.
But having never studied gravity sorceries beyond this, he could not say.
Still… to summon rocks into a colossus of stone—ah, that was a man's dream.
Lucian lingered in Stormveil's plaza a while longer before, through grace, transporting back to Caelid.